Online ‘guru girlies' promise a better life, but is it too good to be true?

The Guardian

10 hours ago

About two years ago, a self-professed 'goddess coach' called Jaelyn posted an eight hour-long 'sleep affirmation' video which, according to many a satisfied viewer, has worked wonders for them. In a somewhat sultry, meditative voice she repeats mantras and welcomes her listeners to attract 'the kind of men and people who will always treat you like a goddess'.
The video, boldly titled Attract Men Who Spend Money, Provide and Love You! is one of many in a genre of content that is booming on YouTube and social media. I call them 'guru girlies', and they are proving a force to be reckoned with. In their rather austere imparting of wisdom, guru girlies have become many young women's go-to guide for all manner of modern conundrums.
The spectrum of gurus is vast, but their advice is mainly focused on the idea of 'levelling up'. From your diet to dressing better to your choice in friends or men, if you want to live your dream life, self-improvement is the prerequisite; the comprehensive physical, financial and spiritual sine qua non that any woman needs to become her best and dream self.
When it comes to the physical, gurus give detailed insight on how to glow up and rebrand your life, often using themselves as examples of how, given the right mindset and Pinterest boards, they were able to lose weight, reduce acne, stay on trend and become a modern standard of beauty that social media sits before in awe.
Spiritually, guru girlies are invariably enamoured with manifestation techniques, subliminal messaging and the universe's seeming interest in giving us every abundance if only we'd ask it to. If you are feeling unfulfilled, it's time to access your divine feminine energy. One guru describes this energy as 'self-prioritisation', performing ritualistic (and often costly) tasks of feminine self-care such as gratitude journaling, healthy eating and skincare routines, all in a bid to get back from the world what you put into it. How conveniently straightforward this all seems, and yet how odd that these young guru girlies are lauded as bringers of divine secrets in all matters feminine.
Financially, gurus typically see men as a means to a life of wealth and abundance. Creators such as Leticia Padua, known by her devoted following as SheraSeven, claims that because all men cheat ('it's just a matter of time'), it's important for women to find the cheater with the most money. This financial levelling up – a mindset that involves distinguishing between high-value, provider men and what Shera calls 'dusties' – has proved highly popular.
And that's because at the root of all this content is a brewing disappointment that many a young woman, scrolling through her social media and navigating a rapidly changing modern world, is bound to feel. A disappointment with modern love and prospects, with our unfiltered face and appearance, and with the fact that real life isn't nearly as ideal as it is online. Guru girlies are there to bridge the gap between your disappointing reality and the ideal they purport to embody, right before you onscreen.
This is done by submitting to the system, not as an act of defeat but as empowerment. Arguably the most well-known guru, Thewizardliz (known as Liz) is a case in point. 'Start expecting good treatment, start expecting to be spoiled, start expecting him to give you money,' she instructs in a video. 'Princess treatment' isn't so much seen as infantilising or disempowering as it is heralded by many guru girlies as a righteous investment in becoming your highest, most feminine self, courtesy of a provider man. However just last week, a four-months pregnant Liz accused her 'provider' husband, YouTuber and software CEO Landon Nickerson of messaging another woman.
In all of this, there is no doubt an addictive nature to self-improvement that explains why a new guru, delivering the same old message, seems to blow up every other week. In an age where ever-changing trends dictate our dreams and ideals, where there is always some undiscovered aspect of ourselves to improve on, we are conveniently primed to keep going back to these gurus in a vain attempt to change who we fundamentally are. 'The internet is making us feel like there is always something we could be improving, and there's a sense that we feel no choice but to try and keep up sometimes,' says former guru follower Just a Girl in Paris in a video critique.
What's fortunate for these gurus is that, because the onus of failing to self-improve is always placed on you, your misery and dissatisfaction perfectly places you to keep returning to her either for advice or, increasingly it would seem, for comfort. Because the truth is, much of what makes these guru girlies convincing isn't the success rate of their advice, it is the parasocial relationship they bring to the already toxic world of self-improvement and wellness culture.
Audiences see their favourite influencer less as a guru than as a kind of ideal friend: the pretty, rich, self-confident and inaccessible woman who, in real life, would never actually be our friend. Many gurus have fostered a false intimacy with their audience that has become a given. 'She's literally like every girl's older sister,' says one of Thewizardliz's followers. 'Sometimes I forget she is a famous influencer and not my best friend who gives me advice on FaceTime,' reads another of the countless adoring comments.
Viewers find comfort and ease in a superficial albeit meaningful relationship that isn't rooted in the messy ups and downs of a real friendship. Their guru friend tells them everything they want to hear about creating their dream life, which only requires intangibles such as affirmations, cutting off disappointing people or a mindset shift. So even if taking all these steps proves to be joyless and wanting, at least your guru, ready with her next upload, will be there to be your ideal friend, all over again.
Zandile Powell is a video essayist and writer. A version of this essay first appeared on her YouTube channel Kidology